


The Stars Keep On Calling My Name

by EMILYLAWLESS



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Boys In Love, California, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 13:32:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13637262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EMILYLAWLESS/pseuds/EMILYLAWLESS
Summary: In that moment he knew he would never get over Steve, that he wanted to stay in this moment forever—drunk on a feeling, with all the stars in the sky and the boy he loved opposite him wearing his jacket.(In which Steve makes a spur of the moment decision that changes their lives forever.)





	The Stars Keep On Calling My Name

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for a lyric prompt on Tumblr, was meant to be a lot shorter and just kind of developed a life of its own.
> 
> Follow me on tumblr @emilylawless and if you enjoyed reading then leave me a comment!

The space between them felt fraught with energy and Billy felt that familiar tidal wave of wanting rush over him. It wouldn’t hurt if he just spread out his fingers, and if one of them was to touch Steve’s - just slightly - that wouldn’t matter either. He carried on smoking, watching the grey cloud against the illuminated sky. The music from his car was faint but he could still make out the distant twang of the guitars. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on it, focus on anything except the overwhelming urge to hold Steve’s hand in his own. When he opened them again Steve was sat upright, looking down at him with eyes that gave nothing away.

He looked so beautiful like this, with the stars lighting up his face like a Christmas tree. Steve rubbed at his bare arms, even though it was summer the night air still had a bite to it—Billy wanted to offer up his own arms to keep him warm. “You cold?” He muttered around the cigarette in his mouth.

Steve shook his head, a resounding no, but his shiver gave him away. “Got a jacket in the trunk if you want it,” Billy offered. Steve said nothing as he got up and wandered back to the Camaro, coming back with Billy’s worn leather wrapped around his shoulders.

He looked good in it and Billy found himself wanting to capture the moment, to remember it forever—the night Steve wore his leather jacket. He remembered the Polaroid camera he had stolen for Max, the one they hid in the glove compartment so his dad couldn’t find it. He fetched it without even thinking.

Steve looked at him confused when he came back holding the camera in his hand. “What’s that for?” He asked. Billy shrugged, trying to play nonchalant. “The good boy turned bad, you look like that chick from Grease, it’ll make a good photo,” Billy feigned a casual tone.

The truth was, he was desperate for a picture of Steve, for something to hold onto because he wasn’t sure Steve was ever going to come back. At least if he had a photograph he’d never forget what he looked like, how his eyes shone under the lights of all the stars in Hawkins.

He took the picture quickly with Steve giving an awkward smile, squinting his eyes slightly at the flash. Billy waited for the photo to develop, watching the nothing turn into everything—his everything. In that moment he knew he would never get over Steve, that he wanted to stay in this moment forever—drunk on a feeling, with all the stars in the sky and the boy he loved opposite him wearing his jacket.

“Let me look,” Steve had his arm outstretched. Billy didn’t want to hand it over, didn’t want Steve to take it from him and leave him with nothing. So instead of giving the photo up, he just held it up between his thumb and index finger, close enough to Steve’s face that he could see.

“I look stupid,” Steve says, shaking his head, feeling self conscious. Billy rolled his eyes, Steve always said dumb stuff like that. He could never see what other people saw, what Billy saw. The badass, bat wielding demon slayer with the perfectly styled hair—the friend who would listen no matter what, the babysitter to six unruly kids, the man that had dragged Billy out of the dark and into the light.

“You are fucking stupid,” Billy snapped back, regretting it instantly. Steve looked hurt, his face creasing like he was trying hard not to cry. Billy felt like a piece of shit. “Thanks a lot Billy,” he muttered and Billy didn’t know what to say so he didn’t say anything.

He stood up, gripping the photograph tightly in his hand. A few loose rocks became the target of his frustration, he kicked them violently off the edge and down into the quarry. It took Steve a little while to speak again, and when he did his voice was almost breaking.

“I wanted to tell you-I didn’t know how-I still can’t believe I got accepted,” he started, Billy stopped kicking the rocks.

“I found out yesterday man, my fucking parents found the letter and forgot to give it to me. Dustin was with me, he just kept grabbing the damn thing. I wasn’t even thinking-y’know, when I applied for it...it was just a spur of the moment thing. I kept thinking of how much you talk about California, about the waves and shit and I just—fuck. I’m sorry Billy.”

“Sorry for what? For living your life? Nothing to be sorry for pretty boy,” Billy felt his face turn to a scowl. There really was nothing to be sorry about. Steve had applied for an internship at a record label in California - and been accepted - and that was no business of Billy’s. Steve didn’t owe Billy anything, they were friends that hunted the occasional demon together, nothing more.

“I should have told you first. You’re my best friend and I didn’t tell you,” Steve mumbled, hugging Billy’s jacket around him. The words were enough to warm Billy against the cold air, _best friend, you’re my best friend_. Steve had never called him that before, he’d called him an asshole countless times - shithead, dickhead, mullet - but never something so emotionally loaded.

“No need to get soppy Harrington, you’re only moving 2,000 miles across the country,” and that fact hit him like a bowling ball to the gut. Two thousand miles between them, all that distance and all those words left unspoken. Steve looked sad too, all bitey lips and big, sad eyes.

“What you looking so miserable for? This is your big fucking shot, Capitol Records man, you’re gonna be on the Sunset Strip living it up!” Billy tried to fake an excited tone. Part of him was glad that Steve was getting out of this hellmouth of a town, away from monsters, his parents and all the small town bullshit that would have eaten away at him eventually. Steve was heading for the sunny shores of California and Billy had never felt so depressed.

“I don’t wanna - god I sound like an idiot - I don’t wanna leave you here,” Steve spoke softly, his eyes still focused firmly on the ground

“What you talking about? I’ve got a pretty sweet gig lined up, gonna be fixing cars all summer, can’t wait,” Billy lied, shuffling on his feet.

Steve stood up then, jacket wrapped tightly around him, swimming in it almost. He was in front of Billy who suddenly felt small, hyper aware of their height difference. Those big brown eyes were searching his face for the truth, Billy was terrified of what would happen if he found it.

“My parents said they’d help pay for an apartment or something. You could...come with me?” Steve was chewing his lip now, evidently nervous.

Billy didn’t know how to respond to the last thing in the world he was expecting. The silence between them lingered for far too long, both of them awkwardly avoiding each other’s eyes. He wanted to say yes - he wanted to tell Steve that he’d follow him to the end of the world and right over the edge if that’s what he wanted. But he just stood there, hands scrunching down into his jeans pockets, looking everywhere except Steve who was the first one to break the silence.

“I’m not joking, if that’s what you’re thinking. I don’t want to leave you here, not after all the shit that’s gone down, not with _him_ ,” Steve put extra emphasis on the pronoun. “I wanted to tell you first, to ask you if you’d come with me - get the fuck out of Hawkins like you’re always talking about.”

Billy dragged his eyes from the ground up to Steve’s painfully sincere face. None of this was bullshit, not one single bit. Steve’s eyes were an open book for Billy to read, honest and expectant. Steve Harrington wanted him to come to California, to live with him in some apartment his yuppie parents were going to put him up in.

“What are you asking Steve?” Billy straightens up a bit, huffing out his chest a little. Steve doesn’t do anything, he just keeps staring and it’s almost like he’s holding back just a little - just enough to make Billy wonder.

“I’m asking for you to come with me to California, get outta Hawkins like you’re always saying, no more monsters or cow shit.”

An involuntary smile tugged at Billy’s mouth. “You really want me there?” He’d wanted the question to sound nonchalant but it came off desperate, achingly so.

“If I didn’t want you there when why the fuck would I ask?” Steve retorted, looking off to the side of Billy like he was an absolute idiot for even thinking such a question.

It took a while to build up the courage to ask his next question. Just a simple, one-worded enquiry that held the rest of his adult life in the balance - “why?”

He steeled himself for the inevitable. It was because Billy was his best friend, because they’d been through a lot together, because Steve didn’t want to leave him alone with his dad - because, because, because. He couldn’t look Steve in the eye, couldn’t hear those words again - _you’re my best friend_ \- knowing that that was all he’d ever be. Friends. Full-stop. No exceptions. Steve Harrington was as straight as a fucking arrow and there was no changing it.

He didn’t even notice Steve moving closer until he was right there, inches away from his face and breathing hard. Steve looked like he was teetering on the edge, chewing his bottom lip hard and staring Billy down with those impossibly big eyes. Billy was there too, ready to be dragged over, all he had to do was say the words. But words had never been Steve’s strong suit - even Nancy had had to help him write his application for the internship - so he said nothing. He just crossed the last remaining inches of space between them and sent them falling off the edge together.

Plump warm lips met Billy’s open mouth and sent him reeling. He couldn’t remember how to kiss, how to breathe or where to put his hands. Steve was coming on hard and Billy was dumbfounded, unable to move or think of anything except his best friends mouth on his own. He must have stood like that for a while - frozen and unresponsive - because Steve was pulling away with tears in his eyes and he was about to run.

Instinctively, Billy reached out his hand to stop him and felt his stomach twist as he saw the first teardrops make their way down Steve’s cheeks.

“I’m sorry Billy, I’m a fucking mess. If you don’t wanna talk to me again - or ever - then I get it. I fucked up,” he began to ramble and Billy’s hand just got tighter on his wrist. Steve rubbed at his eyes furiously with his spare hand, shaking his head and looking at the ground.

“Shut up,” Billy muttered as he pulled Steve close, flush against him. Those eyes were staring right at him now - wet and confused - and Billy felt his heart in his throat. Two paths were laid out in front of him; one led straight back to Hawkins and the other would take him all the way to California with the boy he loved.

Billy bridged the gap this time, hand moving from Steve’s wrist up to his cheek to wipe away the tears. His brown eyes went wide, his mouth fell open and soft, broken sob escaped him.

“Billy, what are you—”

This kiss wasn’t anything like the first; it was gentle, hesitant and not at all one-sided. Steve kissed him back almost immediately, hands coming up to pull on the ends of Billy’s hair, his mouth opening instinctively to let Billy’s tongue explore. It didn’t feel like falling off the edge, it felt like they were _flying_ off it and Billy hates himself for the soppy, romantic thoughts that invade his brain.

Billy’s got both hands on Steve’s cheeks, holding him firm and kissing into his mouth. Steve lets out a few delicious moans and then their tongues meet. They slide against each other and then Billy’s the one moaning, moving his hands down to Steve’s waist and slipping up underneath his t-shirt. The skin of his back is warm underneath the leather jacket, it’s soft and Billy wants to feel more of it, all of it.

He feels Steve shiver under the touch and buck into him, his lips kissing back ferociously. Steve’s hands fall to Billy’s shoulders and hold onto his shirt, fingers curling into the fabric. They stay like that a while - holding onto each other - kissing desperately underneath the stars.

Steve’s the first to pull away, wet-lipped with eyes blown wide open. He’s still got a firm grip on Billy’s t shirt and he’s shivering despite the heavy jacket.

“Billy,” he sounds breathless, needy. Billy smiles at him, not one of his shit eating grins but a genuine, honest beam.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so fucking long.”

“You wanna do it again?” Steve asks and Billy nods because he can’t wait to do it again, over and over.

“Does this mean you’ll come - to California?” Billy can sense the fear in his voice but there’s hope there too, just under the surface.

“I couldn’t let you go by yourself. Pretty boy like you’d get eaten alive out there,” he jokes and then their kissing again, Steve smiling against his mouth.

 

* * *

 

The city was always at its best when the sun was coming down, painting everything a strange shade of purple. Billy drummed his fingers on the steering wheel of the Camaro and looked over at Steve who was singing along with the tape and staring out the window. The palm trees lined the streets that were filled with Friday night party goers and Billy felt that familiar warmth curl within him. California always made him feel good - safe - and Steve by his side only served to increase the feeling tenfold.

It had been a few months since they had left Hawkins for Los Angeles and it had been good, really good. Steve enjoyed his job, even if he was underpaid and overworked and Billy loved the tapes that Steve would play in the car when he picked him up in the evenings. Billy found a job working in a bar on the Sunset Strip, it was a temporary thing whilst he saved money for college but he was good at it.

They made their home together, minimalist but very much them. Steve’s bat took prize place on top of their bookshelf, framed photographs of their friends underneath - Nancy, Jonathan, Billy and Steve smiling awkwardly at a party dinner just before they left. There was a photograph of Billy and Max, one of Steve and the kids and photo booth snaps of Billy and Steve making faces, beaming at each other, kissing. And of course, the Polaroid of Steve wearing his leather jacket the night they had kissed for the very first time.

“I miss the stars,” Steve dragged him out of his daydream.

Billy shook his head and laughed, trust Steve to be in one of the most exciting cities in the whole world and still find some way to miss Hawkins. He was right though, the one bad thing about Los Angeles - apart from the traffic, the crime, the smog - was the lack of stars.

“Different kind of star out here baby. Hawkins might have the ones in the sky but L.A’s got the ones from the movies,” Billy replied, enjoying the way the breeze from the open window blew back his hair.

Steve laughed like he always did.

“Think we can go to the observatory? I don’t wanna go home yet,” he asked, still staring out of the window. Billy nodded, he’d drive anywhere Steve wanted him.

It didn’t take too long to get there. Steve made animated conversation the whole journey, talking about a new band that were going to be the next big thing. He was still talking by the time they had parked the car and he continued to rabbit on as they began to walk up the winding road to Griffith Observatory. There were quite a few people there but they managed to find a quiet, more secluded spot around the back of the building. Billy hopped up on the concrete ledge and Steve did the same, they dangled their feet off the edge.

The sky was turning dark purple and the entire city sprawled out in front of them. Billy felt Steve’s hand reach out and his stomach still did somersaults every time he felt that soft palm against his own. He glanced over at Steve who was looking out at the city like it was a piece of art to be revered.

“I get it now, why you missed home so much, why you hated Hawkins,” he spoke after a while. Billy didn’t say anything, just let the calm feeling that Steve’s hand elicited wash over him.

“I love you,” Steve said after a long pause, tearing his eyes away from the lights and focusing on Billy.

They hadn’t said it before, they’d never spoken the words but Billy had known it for months, before they’d even started dating. He loved Steve Harrington. California may be his home but Steve was his life, and he truly would follow him to the end of the Earth and _right over the edge_ if that’s what it took to have him. But right now he didn’t have to do anything except sit on the ledge and watch the lights of the city reflect in his eyes.

“I love you too,” he replied.

 


End file.
